


Sweet Lavender of Normality

by yankee_jim



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Love, M/M, Panic, Skeptic Shane Madej, Trans Ryan, shyan, shyan fic, shyanlibrary, skeptic believer, trans!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yankee_jim/pseuds/yankee_jim
Summary: “Ryan could not mistake how handsome Shane was. But instead of the usual skipping of his heart, he was overcome with a simple feeling of sadness. Sadness that this would all be over in a matter of minutes and he would be forced to sever his yearning and affection and needless to say, lust for Shane. Because Shane would never want to talk to him again, would never want to be his friend, let alone fall head over heels for him the same way that Ryan was. Because Ryan was just a freak, a mutation whose parts didn’t match up and whose gears didn’t turn the right way.”Ryan Bergara, a “professional ghost hunter,” begins to get feelings for his co-worker, Shane during an investigation. Ryan wants so badly to be able to hold Shane close to him, but there is one thing holding him back, Shane doesn’t know that Ryan had been born a girl.





	1. My Heart Feels Like a Broken Soapdish

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for choosing to read this story! Here’s a couple notes before you begin. Please note that this story is from the perspective of Ryan. He is very critical of himself and his transgender identity in the story, but the things he says are only things he thinks about himself. I used my own experiences and feelings being a transgender guy in order to shape Ryan’s character. I have read some Trans Ryan fics on this site and I didn’t really like all of them very much, no shade though. It was just that I kept reading about the same thing. Ryan being trans and Shane and Ryan having sex and that was it. So I tried to create more of a story surrounding it, outlining the many moments of panic that come from have somebody know you’re transgender who didn’t know before. Actually, I am still sort of in that limbo where I often doubt myself and think I am abnormal and not worthy of love, so i just kind of wanted to reflect an authentic experience in this story. Also! Please go read my other fic. It’s sort of true crime ish and I have written in the form of a poem, kind of? It’s pretty short. Anyways, that’s pretty much it. Please let me know if you like this story! Thanks.

           Ryan stared at the steam-covered bathroom mirror in room 657 of the Coast Bastion Hotel in Nanaimo. An ugly creature with rounded hips and softened features stared back. Ryan knew he didn’t look like that to the outside world. He knew his face was chiseled and his body was traced with defined muscles like those of a Roman God, but ever so often he would have a day where he would look at his masculine body in the mirror and see nothing but a woman staring back, like a demented monster ready to devour him alive.

He pressed his fist indignantly against the wall as he studied the threading of the pristine white towel that hung loosely over his hips. When Ryan was younger, feelings of anguish and helplessness would dominate his brain whenever he saw the girl staring back at him in the mirror no matter how hard he tried to shake her off. Now, he simply felt unadulterated anger. Anger that despite having taken injections of testosterone since he was fifteen years old, the girl he used to be would continue to reappear ever so often just to spit in his face.

A wave of resentment washed over Ryan as though he were seaweed being tossed around in a swirling current. He groaned a deep, agonizing groan, picked up an elegant ceramic soapdish and flung it across the lavish bathroom, watching as it shattered into a million pieces against the wall. His chest painted itself red and his head grew hot as he pounded his fist against the counter.

“Ryan?” a tender voice travelled through the bathroom door accompanied with a light knock.

“You alright, man?”

Ryan had almost forgotten he was not alone in the hotel room. He had let his thoughts consume him and isolate him from the outside world.

“Yep!” he replied in a fabricated tone.

“Just knocked something off the counter.”

“Well hurry up! We gotta catch our bus.”

Ryan hurriedly threw his clothes on, ultimately deciding to clean up the demolished soap dish later. He walked out of the bathroom with no sense of pride or confidence, only to see his best friend, Shane, standing tall and looking impeccable. Shane was tall and awkward in stature. His limbs seemed to extend for miles in every direction. His head was quite large and a pair of clear glasses perched themselves on his protruding nose. Ryan scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with him.

“You might not want to go in there,” he said, alluding to the bathroom with a slight nod.

“There’s broken soapdish all over the floor,” Ryan chuckled lightly to himself, earning a grin from Shane.

“Alright, dude, let’s just get out of here,” Shane suggested as he heaved his bag over his shoulder. Ryan did the same with his backpack that had been embroidered with the words “Professional Ghost Hunter.”

“Cover that up, it’s ridiculous and makes me embarrassed to be your friend,” Shane joked as he shoved Ryan out the door.

“Besides, the ghouls will see it and will not want to talk to you,” he mocked in a sing-songy voice.

“I wouldn’t want to talk to somebody with a backpack that said ‘Professional Shane Hunter’ on it.”

Ryan snickered.

“Shut up, Shane.”

 

* * *

 

            Ryan remembered when he was fifteen years old, sitting at the counter in the dim-lit kitchen of his childhood home, watching his mother scrub aimlessly at the dinner dishes. The room was quiescent besides the babble of water running from the tap.

“What if nobody will ever love me?” Ryan pondered as he carelessly pushed around the food on his plate, purposefully refraining from meeting his mother’s sympathetic gaze.

A black hoodie hung over his shoulders, matching the colour of his charcoal hair. It was a piece of clothing he wore nearly every day, even in the summer months because although he had an entire closet full of other clothes, the black hoodie was the only one that made him feel like he looked acceptable. Sometimes even exceptional. The hoodie that made him look like the boy he was.

“Nobody will ever want to marry me,” he said.

“I’m too complicated.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The previously bright and blue day had turned misty and desolate the further the two ghost-hunters travelled down the coast of Vancouver Island. They traversed along a stretch of untamed beach as rays of sunlight glanced through the sheet of fog and the gentle evening sea water lapped quietly onto the shore. Ryan breathed in the honeyed fragrance of burning cedar wood as he steadied his grip on his camera, though it probably wasn’t picking up much as the shot was obstructed by the mist wall. Shane took a seat on a log as Ryan set up his tripod to face the man.

“Alright, lay it on me.” Shane said as Ryan turned on the camera, the little, flashing red light contrasting greatly from the grey abyss that surrounded them. Ryan sat down next to Shane and began to tell an ancient story to the camera.

“The Coast Salish People in British Columbia have many legends and stories about the land and their people, many of them ending with some sort of moral or takeaway message.”

Ryan could feel Shane’s eyes tracing his features as he spoke. He didn’t like being watched so intently.

“This week, we are on Vancouver Island hoping to see Th'owxeya, otherwise known as the Cannibal Woman.” A chill cascaded up Ryan’s spine. Despite what he had said about their hopes to see the woman, it was truthfully the last thing he wanted to encounter.

“Mothers would use the story of Th'owxeya, the cannibal woman who liked to eat small children, as way to keep their kids from coming in too late after dark.”

Ryan looked over both his shoulders into the evening, a visible look of pure terror plastered on his face. Shane laughed, eyes softened as he placed his hand on Ryan’s back.

“Chill out. We haven’t even started looking for her yet.” Ryan nodded and continued, though his eyes were still incredibly wide.

“Th'owxeya was an old woman who would steal small children. When the sun went down, young kids would make sure they were inside their homes to avoid getting taken away. Although Th'owxeya was very old, she was said to move at incredible speeds. One hot day, a group of young children were swimming in the ocean, and after having something to eat, became tired and lay down on the hot rocks to sleep. The oldest boy in the group woke up with a feeling of fear in his stomach and when he looked up to the mountains, he could see Th'owxeya coming down towards them,” Ryan paused.

“How the hell is it that you can pronounce words like Th'owxeya and Lakshmanan Sathyavagiswaran but you can’t pronounce ‘February?’” Shane laughed to himself.

“I don’t have time for your jokes, dude. I have literal chills.” Ryan ran his hands down his goose-bump littered for arm, fear-stricken and Shane just laughed, prompting him to continue telling the tale.

“After seeing the cannibal woman emerging from the mountains, the boy tried to wake up the rest of the children, but the younger ones would not wake up. In that moment, the boy could have run away and saved himself, but there was a teaching that if you were the oldest one, you were responsible for everybody else. So he did not run away. He stayed and tried to help them escape. Th'owxeya began throwing the children into a basket on her back and going back up the mountain. Th'owxeya got to a cave that she often hid in and took the children out of the basket and lined them up. Then, she got a great big pole and stick and lit a burning fire. Then the oldest boy realized that she was going to cook them and eat them. He had the idea that when she was facing the fire, he would grab the pole and push her in, and that is just what he did. When Th'owxeya was singing and facing the fire, he grabbed the pole and he shoved her in. Th'owxeya started to holler and scream as she burned. But instead of smoke coming out of the fire, thousands of mosquitoes came billowing out instead. Today, the people say that mosquitoes sing by your ear because Th'owxeya was singing when she had died.” There was a long silence.

“Okay this is actually a really interesting story,” Shane said as he looked to Ryan, who was still terrified.

“Ryan calm down, you’re a grown man. Th'owxeya’s not comin’ to get ya tonight.” Ryan slapped a mosquito off his hand and glared at Shane with wide eyes. Shane laughed.

“Let’s just go set up our tent.”

  



	2. Freedom

            Ryan was beginning to seriously doubt Shane’s consoling about the fact that the cannibal woman was not coming to eat him tonight. He knew she only enjoyed eating children but he didn’t disregard the fact that in that moment, he sure felt like a child. He zipped up his sleeping bag and buried his face in the voluminous down. The light had been drained from the sky and the only sound that could be heard was the waves batting lightly on the sand and the cannibal woman’s far off singing, as Ryan could have sworn.

“It’s just a legend, Ryan. It’s not a true story, that’s kind of the point,” Shane said as he shifted his body to face Ryan, resting his head on his own hand.

“I’m moving closer to you, I don’t care,” Ryan responded frantically as he haphazardly scooted toward Shane. They were in a tent on a beach that was two hours away by logging road to the closest town and Ryan felt helpless. At every miniscule sound he heard coming from outside, his heart moved into his throat and his body moved closer to Shane’s.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan stared at the lantern that swung from the top of their tent as he got lost in his thoughts, remembering the last time he felt as helpless as he did in that moment. He sat in the doctor’s office, fumbling nervously with his fingers as he waited for his dad to make an appearance. He looked over to his mom who was constantly looking at her watch, brows furrowed as she did so.

“Is you father ever going to show up?” she asked Ryan in annoyance as if he any idea what the answer was. He didn’t particularly enjoy being caught, without any armour, in the middle of the the battle that was divorce, but he didn’t let the fact that his parents were not together anymore ruin the day for him. 

He was going to get an injection that day. Most children would despise getting a thin piece of metal jabbed into their leg, but Ryan could not have been more overjoyed because this wasn’t just any injection, it was freedom, as cliché as it sounded. Today he would walk out of the doctor’s with his chin a little higher, his smile a little brighter and his leg a little sorer, because testosterone would be flowing through his veins that had previously been clogged and congested and muddied by estrogen. 

Ryan’s dad did eventually show up, though twenty minutes late. Ryan assumed he had been on another date with some random woman he had met on a dating app. Ryan could barely listen as the endocrinologist explained the risks and side effects of the hormone because he was too eager to get it inside of him. Ryan finally tuned back in when the doctor had asked his parents if either of them had any questions. His mother shook her head. She knew very well that testosterone was what Ryan needed. She had seen his moments of agony and despair every morning, but his father had not. 

Then he said it. As if he had hit Ryan in the chest with a the swinging baseball bat they used to play with when Ryan was a kid, his father said it, as if it were not the most damaging thing he could have said, “I think I want to get a second opinion.” 

And just like that, Ryan’s hopes swirled down the drain and into the ocean. His shoulders fell and his back hunched and he refused to meet his father’s eyes. Helpless.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan awoke to an excruciating heat, a musty smell, and rays of morning light shining against his tent. It was summer, after all. He looked over to Shane, who was lightly snoring, mouth agape. Ryan smiled to himself as he watched the rise and fall of his friend’s chest. There was something about Shane that made Ryan forget all the troubles in his life, except the troubles that involved ghosts and demons, Shane definitely made those worse. 

But when they roared of laughter until their stomachs hurt and bantered useless banter until the day’s end, Ryan felt wonderful. He didn’t feel different. He felt absolutely normal in the best way one possibly could. 

Shane didn’t know about Ryan’s past and he didn’t need to know in order to be best friends with Ryan. In fact, nobody in Ryan’s current life knew besides his girlfriend and he wanted to keep it that way. Ryan could not imagine a life where everybody knew that he had used to be a girl. It would wear on him like an itch from a mosquito bite. 

Ryan was jolted out of his own brain by a strong grip on his arm and a loud noise.

“Boo!” Shane yelled, causing Ryan to holler as if he were a wolf on a full-moon. Shane doubled over laughing at Ryan’s reaction as the smaller one caught his breath.

“Don’t do that!” Ryan breathed, head tilted back. But he knew that he would not give up Shane’s pointless jump-scares for anything.

“Guess it’s time to go back to the office, huh?” Shane said as he began to pack up his equipment.

“Yeah only a two hour drive on a fucking logging road and ferry ride to go,” Ryan spoke as if he were keen to go back to the city, to his regular job, to his girlfriend. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to stay hunting ghouls on the island, hours away from civilization with his best friend by his side. A feeling of dread bubbled and churned in Ryan’s stomach the closer to home they got. He wasn’t quite sure if it was due to the fact that he didn’t want to leave Shane’s side or if he didn’t want to be at his girlfriend’s. He came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to go back to feeling estranged. 

When he was at home, he yearned for the feeling of normality. He only truly found that feeling when he was ghost-hunting, the least normal activity one could think of, with Shane, the least normal man one could think of. Ryan thought it was funny like that, the time he felt the most regular was when he was surrounded by the most outlandish of things. 

He pictured his arrival to the city in his head. He would walk into his girlfriend, Christie’s apartment door and she would interrogate him about how transgender people were treated on Vancouver Island or how much dysphoria he felt when he was on the trip and wouldn’t even take a moment to ask him if he had enjoyed himself. He didn't want to talk about it. He hated talking about it. He could barely say the word “transgender” without grimacing.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan studied his grey skater shoes as he swung his legs back and forth. He sat on a stool in his father’s kitchen, feeling that if he were to touch something, he would either be yelled at, the thing would break, or both. He glanced at his dad who was sitting across from him, smiling slightly as he watched messages fly by on his cell-phone.

“Hey, I have somebody coming over that I want you to meet,” he said, still captivated by his phone screen. Ryan looked at his dad, the lines that ran along the sides of his eyes, the grey coat that had washed over his previously jet black hair. He looked old.

“I think you’re going to really like her. Her name is Jodi, I met her on  _ Match. _ ”  _ Great,  _ Ryan thought sarcastically as he shifted in his chair. 

“Cool,” he muttered and as though she had been waiting outside for just the right moment to present herself, the sound of the doorbell ricocheted through the house. His dad promptly got up to answer it as Ryan watched from down the hall. A blonde woman who appeared quite a bit younger than his dad held onto his dad’s shoulder with one hand while trying feverishly to remove her high-heel with the other. Finally, the two of them walked down the hall towards Ryan, a smile plastered on the new woman’s face when she saw him. Ryan smiled slightly and took a sip of his water.

“This is Jodi, she’s my fiance,” his dad said, firing the information at Ryan like a bullet from a gatling gun. He momentarily choked on his water, eyes wide.

“Fiance?” Ryan questioned with surprise. Jodi looked at him with soft eyes while his dad became visibly stressed over Ryan’s flawed reaction. She took a seat at the table next to Ryan. Ryan moved his chair a couple inches away. Jodi scooted closer.

“We were actually thinking,” she began her sentence. Ryan wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the strange woman holding his father’s hand was about to say next.

“We want you to be one of the flower girls at the wedding.”

There it was. The complete absence of normality.

Ryan’s stomach dropped and his heart sank to his feet. He felt like he was going to throw up all over his dad’s newly tiled floor. He shot his dad a look. Ryan didn’t know if his own face was conveying desperation or anger, but he hoped it was the latter. Who even is this woman and what business did she have coming into Ryan’s home and calling him a flower girl?  _ Why did he tell her I was a girl?  _ He thought.

“I could help you pick out a beautiful dress!” she exclaimed, seemingly excited she had a little girl of her own to bond with. Ryan squirmed at the thought of himself in a dress.

“No thanks,” He answered sharply in the lowest voice he could muster up before zipping up his hoodie and stomping upstairs to his bedroom.

“Racheal, wait,” his father called after him. Ryan grit his teeth.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Honey, I’m home!” Ryan joked as he entered his girlfriend’s apartment, still weaning off the pure joy of his adventure. Christie came waltzing down the steps to greet Ryan. She was a small woman and part Japanese just like he was. She smiled a smile at Ryan, one he thought may have been a little too crazed for the occasion. He followed her up the carpeted steps and took a seat in the kitchen.

“So,” Christie began. Ryan hung onto a sliver of hope that she was not going bring up something about being transgender.

“Did you and Shane have any...you know…deep conversations on the trip?” Ryan sighed,  _ what was this woman getting at? _ He closed his eyes and replied, “What are you talking about?” Although, only feeding into her knack for odd inquirings.

“Did the fact that you are transgender ever come up in conversation?” 

Ryan stood up from his seat and leant against the counter.

“We were literally in the middle of the woods investigating a cannibal woman. No part of me had any desire to talk about it with him, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have had the time because I was too busy pissing myself over being eaten in my sleep and busting a nut to make sure the video was damn good!” Ryan raised his voice slightly, feeling the vibration in his chest.

“Can you...say that, Ry?”

“Say what?” He stared demandingly into her eyes, not enough to scare her, but just enough to hopefully make her back down. Ryan hadn’t always been excellent at keeping acute eye contact, it was a skill he had recently acquired that came as a package deal with his newfound confidence.

“You know, can you say that you were ‘busting a nut’ even though you don’t have any?” Ryan’s angry heart pounded in his chest, as if it were to break out of the confinement of his ribs and curse in his girlfriend’s face.

“Can you just-” Ryan paused and pinched the bridge of his nose, unknowing if he would say what he was about to say next.

“Can you just let me live once and awhile?” There was an unpleasant silence that fell over the room. His girlfriend was shocked at his response, and quite frankly, so was Ryan. He wondered why he had failed for so many years to stand up for himself over Christie’s unwillingness to see him as anything other than his transgender identity. 

For the three years they had been together, Ryan could not recall Christie asking about his passion for ghost hunting as he talked so lovingly about it or the details about his family other than whether they were accepting of his transition or not. Ryan knew she saw him as nothing more than a man who used to be a girl and he wondered why she was even dating him in the first place if she never bothered with learning a single thing about him that actually mattered. 

Despite Ryan’s spontaneous burst of confidence, there was no avail. Christie brushed off Ryan’s slight uprising like dirt off of her dress.

“Anyway, I was at work yesterday and was talking to Sarah.” It must have been visible that Ryan had no clue who Sarah was because Christie explained, “You know, the bubbly one with the curly hair?” Ryan nodded in agreement though he was still unable to pinpoint who she was talking about.

“The transgender topic came up in one of our conversations and I was telling her about your journey-”

“Wait, what?” Ryan cut Christie off mid-sentence. He carded his fingers through his hair with uneasiness.

“You told somebody at work?” He pleaded for clarification, resentment and worry simultaneously boiling in his guts and lacing his tone. He knew he should have never come back. He knew he should have stayed on an island hours from home with Shane and the cannibal woman, living out the rest of his days feeling normal. To Ryan, feeling normal was feeling phenomenal.

“Yeah, Ry, it was just one person. She won’t spread it around,” Christie replied in a spurious attempt to calm Ryan’s growing anxieties, though she was truthfully just making excuses for her own wellbeing. Ryan shook his head and flung his backpack over his shoulder before turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Christie questioned urgently as she clung to Ryan’s arm, preventing him from taking another step.

“I’m going home, Christie.” He shook free from her determined grip and left. Originally Ryan had planned to drive home to his own apartment and snuggle up under his covers, using the blankets as a barrier from the outside world but as he was driving the dark roads in silence he made the instinctive decision to turn around and go to Shane’s instead. He did tell Christie he was going home after all, and Ryan had determined that wherever his best friend was was where he felt truly at home.

 

* * *

 

 

          Ryan watched intently as the nurse with unusually large hands flicked the needle, causing a small bead of clear liquid to come out the top and run down the sharp metal. Ryan sat in the office in his underwear, tightly grasping his mom’s hand.

“You ready?” The nurse queried as she rolled her chair closer to Ryan and rubbed his thigh with sanitizing alcohol, immediately causing the room to fill with the familiar scent that defined a doctor’s office.

“Ready,” Ryan replied, and he wasn’t lying. In fact, he was more ready for this moment than he had been ready for anything in his entire life. 

His dad wasn’t there in the office with him. They had gotten an opinion on the matter from another therapist two weeks back and he had reluctantly signed the papers. Ryan had not spoken to him since then, although part of him wished his acrimony towards his father would suppress for a brief moment just so he could thank him. 

In a matter of seconds, the needle was in and then out and in a matter of seconds, Ryan’s life was instantaneously brighter. He looked into the mirror across from him, not really expecting to see a full grown beard on his face, but not really doubting that he wouldn’t either.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan arrived to work with bags under his eyes after a long night of idiotically watching horror films in Shane’s apartment and lying petrified in his own bed until the first light of the day. His backpack full of various paranormal gadgets burdened his shoulders as he wandered over to the coffee machine with his travel mug, glaring at the disposable cups they had available next to it. Ryan wasn’t going to use one of those measly plastic beakers and have it end up in a turtle’s throat. 

The signature organic coffee smell filled his nose as the hot, brown liquid fell into his mug, transporting him back to mornings at his childhood house when his father would wake him up at the crack of dawn so he wouldn't miss the Saturday morning cartoons. Ryan sighed before being brought out of his thoughts by a small hand on his shoulder. It was a petite woman with lively eyes and bouncing curls.

“Hey, Ryan,” she smiled up at him.

“Hey,” Ryan echoed, his voice still groggy from the little amount of sleep he had gotten the night before.

“Does Daysha know?” the woman said, stressing the last word as she leaned in closer to Ryan’s ear and covertly darted her eyes around the room. It was as though they were school children exchanging a secret. The familiar feeling of uncertainty flooded Ryan’s body.  _ It is too early for this _ , Ryan thought.

“Know  _ what _ ?” he asked, his demeanour immediately shifting from dopey to assertive.

“You know,” she paused. “About you?” 

Ryan put the lid on his travel mug and instinctively replied with, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” before turning on his heel and leaving the small woman at the coffee station, head hot and heart racing. Ryan kept his gaze to the floor with zero desire to talk to anybody at the office, but his plans were foiled when he bumped into a wall of a man, nearly spilling his piping hot coffee on the floor.

“Sorry,” Ryan sputtered without meeting the man’s eyes and swiftly walking off again before feeling a hand grasp his arm.

“Hey, little guy, not so fast!” Shane’s voice serenaded his ears. Ryan looked up to see his friend.

“You okay, man?” Shane questioned with visible concern in his expression, hand still resting on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, are you?” Ryan retaliated in a harsh tone he immediately regretted using after it spilled out of his mouth. But Shane just chuckled as he softened his eyes.

“Well let’s go catch us some ghouls then!” He exclaimed before jumping slightly in the air and turning to leave the office. Ryan smiled at the tremendous amount of excitement billowing from the large man. He appreciated the passion Shane had about their show, even though he was extremely skeptical about the supernatural.

  
  



	3. I Hope We Can Stay Friends

            The sun became obstructed by clouds as Ryan sat in the passenger seat of Shane’s car, head resting against the window. He remembered the day things had started to shift in his childhood, when he would no longer wake up early to watch cartoons but instead wake up with anger in his heart as he slowly became triumphed over by dysphoria. 

_ I’m fifteen years old,  _ he would think to himself.  _ I don’t need this.  _

He would spend the majority of his mornings before school yelling curse words at his reflection in the mirror, refusing to listen to his mother’s barely audible consoling through the bathroom door. 

The only thing Ryan got emotional over now was thinking back to his fifteen year old self. How every day he would get up in agony and yell through gritted teeth, “I hate you,” at his reflection and, “You look like a fucking lesbian!” and bawl until his eyes were red and puffy. 

But he would continue to smile as he always had done when he was a very young child. He would smile, though his eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears, because Ryan knew that smiling was the only way he would get through this whole mess. It made Ryan sad to think back to the young man he used to be and how miserable he was. It made his heart hurt to think that his biggest bully had been himself. So he didn’t think about all too much. What Ryan didn’t realize that his biggest bully still was himself.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan and Shane began to unpack their sleeping gear. They were going to sleep outside Britannia Mines in Squamish which was just an hour or so outside of the city. Ryan lay his sleeping bag next to Shane’s on a wooden platform just outside the mouth of the mine. He was both internally and externally babbling with worry about the demons that inhabited the depths of the dark tunnel. Although, Ryan was beginning to think the reason he was filled with dread and an impending sense of doom was not because of the demons inside the mine, but rather the demons back in the city who spat his deepest secret around the office as though it were a piece of chewing gum that had lost its flavour. 

The faint red glow of the already set sun illuminated the silhouettes of the thunderous mountains that surrounded them as mosquitoes permeated the summer evening, laughing in Ryan’s ears. Stars freckled the sky, reflecting the light of the passing cars that Ryan watched fly by on the highway below. Shane had already turned over in his sleeping bag, back facing Ryan, and when Ryan had nobody to talk to, he got carried away by his own mind. 

_ What if the whole office knows?,  _ he thought with dismay.  _ Who else did Christie tell? Why can’t I just live my life? Why does something always have to come in the way?  _ Thousands of questions ran through Ryan’s mind like Olympic sprinters on a race track as he moved restlessly in his sleeping bag.

“Ryan?” Shane said, words slurred and lazy.

“Mhm?”

“Shut up.”

“What?” Ryan turned to face Shane.

“You’re doing your weird muttering thing again,” Shane said. Ryan was not aware he did a “weird muttering thing.” He crossed his arms in a weak attempt to defend his honour.

“There’s no need to worry, little guy, I won’t let the ghosties get ya!” Shane mocked as Ryan dared to peer down the dark, beckoning mine.

“Whatever, Shane.” There was a long, drawn out silence like a sentence from a drunk man’s lips. The crickets purred and the warm breeze lightly danced through the tall grass.

“Shane?” Ryan said with in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“What now?”

“I think I want to break up with Christie,” he said. Shane groaned and turned to face Ryan, accepting that he was not going to get a minute of sleep that night.

“Why?” Shane asked.

Ryan hesitated as he found the words to lie to Shane about the reason he wanted to break up with his girlfriend of three years. Well, it wasn’t a  _ lie  _ it just wasn’t the entire truth.

“Isn’t being in love with someone supposed to be about being happy when you’re with them?” Ryan said. Shane rubbed his hands sleepily over his face and smiled.

“Yeah I guess so, I don’t know, man, it’s 3 AM,” Shane mumbled before stopping to look Ryan in the eyes.

“Are you not happy with her?” he questioned. Ryan felt a flutter in his stomach as he pondered for a moment.

“No,” he said.

“No, I don’t feel happy with her, she makes me feel rotten,” Ryan said with a slight laugh that was trumped by a sigh.

“Then pull the trigger, dude,” Shane advised as if it were the simplest thing in the world to break off a relationship with a girl he’d been dating for years.

“Now goodnight,” Shane said, patting Ryan’s forearm before turning over and being devoured by his sleeping bag. Ryan unzipped his backpack and pulled out his phone. He fumbled with it between his fingers for a few moments before dialling the number, the ear piercing plinks as Ryan hit each button ringing out through the quiet night and echoing back to them from the depths of the mine.

“What on earth are you doing, now?” Shane said, turning over once again to watch Ryan.

“I’m breaking up with her,” Ryan replied matter-of-factly, causing Shane to giggle at Ryan’s odd time management.

“Now?! It’s three in the morning!” Ryan glared at Shane, who was trying desperately to stifle his laughter. Then, Christie picked up the phone. Both Shane and Ryan’s eyes grew wide when they heard the soft female voice on the other end of the line. Ryan held out a finger and glared at Shane in an attempt to quiet down his now uncontrollable laughter.

“Hey, Christie. I know it’s 3 AM.” Ryan placed his sweaty palm over Shane’s mouth, now also trying to repress his own laughter.

“I was just thinking and,” he hesitated. “I think we need to take a break.” 

Once Ryan said it, his expression became serious again. This wasn’t a game anymore, this was Ryan’s chance to finally break free.

“I don’t feel happy when we are together like I probably should and I think that maybe we are not right for each other.” He felt bad for not being able to give the full explanation to Christie, but he couldn't possibly talk about it with Shane lying next to him. Ryan felt a warm hand on his own and he smiled slightly to see that it was Shane’s.

“I hope we can stay friends,” Ryan said, his voice quieted to a soft buzz like that of the gentle night breeze that tousled his hair.

“I’ll come pick up my stuff tomorrow.”

“Alright, bye.” Ryan hung up the phone and placed his other hand over Shane’s.

“So what did she say?” Shane asked.

“She said she was thinking the same thing,” Ryan replied, not knowing if that made him feel upset or relieved. Shane gave Ryan’s hand a short squeeze.

“Well good, now can I get some fucking sleep?” Shane said as Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. Ryan slinked down into his sleeping bag, engrossed in the sticky warmth of his body heat. His previous statement bounced around his brain.  _ Isn’t being in love with someone supposed to be about being happy when you’re with them?  _ Ryan studied Shane’s features as they softened the deeper into sleep he fell. 

Ryan evoked his thoughts about his and Shane’s expedition to the island. How happy he felt when he unrestrainedly gut-laughed with Shane and jokingly argued with Shane and simply stood next to  _ Shane.  _ Then, Ryan’s eyes widened as they often did when he thought he had seen a ghost. But this time, he wasn’t afraid of a ghost. He was afraid of something far worse. 

_ Shit!  _ Ryan thought.  _ I can  _ **_not_ ** _ be into dudes.  _ He shook his head violently as though the newly realized fondness for his best friend would fly right out his ears and down Britannia Mine if he did so, never to be pondered over again.

“Ryan?” Shane mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

  
  



	4. The Horrifying Demon of Change

            “Many transgender children develop emotionally in an unhealthy way because they switch the part of their brain that allows them to want to be in a romantic relationship off until their bodies look the way they want them to,” the mousy psychologist monotonously droned as Ryan’s mom held intently onto every word she said as if she were a royal.

Ryan already knew everything she was telling them. It was quite obvious that he had shut off that part of his brain because although he got funny feelings for a girl at school every once and awhile, he would quickly shake them off almost immediately as they came about. 

Ryan couldn’t imagine falling in love with somebody in the body he had, let alone falling in love with a man. But since Ryan had grown up and taken testosterone and gotten chest surgery, the feeling of unworthiness began to shift, to dissipate though still not entirely gone. He began to date Christie after he fell in love with her at a food truck in Los Angeles. 

He had fallen in love with the girl she was before she knew he was transgender. Ryan had admittedly waited too long into their relationship to drop the knowledge on her like a wrecking ball. They were just about to get intimate for the first time when Ryan had told her. The relationship went downhill from there and now Ryan was lying outside a mine on the top of a hill with his best friend in the world who he was apparently falling for after having just broken up with his girlfriend.

 

* * *

 

 

            The two boys pulled into the office parking lot at seven in the morning. Ryan was content with the footage they had gotten, but even more content with the experience they had had. Although, Ryan was absolutely  _ not  _ content about the butterflies in his stomach he fell victim to whenever Shane was by his side. 

Ryan burst through the office doors and all eyes suddenly fell on him. 

He looked around peculiarly at his co-workers, who dropped their gazes as Ryan met their eyes. 

_ Do I look funny?  _ Ryan thought as he dusted non existent dirt off of his sleeve. He meandered through the eerily silent office towards his seat, feeling eyeballs glued to his every move. He sat down in his cushioned office chair as he turned on his computer, skeptically looking around at the people beside him.  _ What the hell is going on? _

“Hey, Ryan, have you seen this?” He felt a hand resting on the back of his chair and turned to see his coworker, Brent. 

Brent lowered his phone in front of Ryan’s face and Ryan’s stomach dropped. 

On the screen was a photo of him at fifteen years old before he had started his transition. Long, black locks of hair cascaded from his scalp and he wore a blue velvet dress with a white lace collar and a cuff. 

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the table until his knuckles turned white. He yanked Brent’s phone from his hand and looked more closely at the screen, bringing it so that it was almost touching his nose. He saw it was sent in an email with the caption, “Ryan at fifteen, before transition,” from nobody but Christie. He should have known her bizarre agreement with the breaking off of their relationship was too good to be true. 

“It’s not real, right?” Brent said with a lisp. Ryan had almost forgotten he was standing there. 

Ryan swiftly got up from his chair, slightly nudging Brent aside and began expeditiously walking to the back of the office. He felt as though he was going to vomit all over the floor. His pace quickened as tears stung his eyes, threatening to pour onto his cheeks and paint him as even more of a girl than he already was. Ryan’s head became light, but his breaths heavy and sporadic. A young woman stopped him.

“You’ll always be a man in my eyes Ryan, no matter what’s in your pants,” she said softly. Ryan cringed. He didn’t want to talk about it, he hated talking about it, even more so with a random stranger from his office. Then he thought, maybe it was better talking about it with a random stranger from his office than his best friend. 

He was stopped in his journey by another woman, he didn’t recognize anyone anymore, their faces had all blurred together to create a horrifying demon. Ryan became overwhelmed with a sense of dread.

“You know that you’re valid, Ryan,” she began and she placed a hand against his skin. Ryan shrugged her grip off his shoulder. He didn’t need people consoling him as if he were weak and unconfident. He focused on his feet as they quickened in movement only to be stopped by another group of people.

“Hey, Ryan you would know something about this,” they said in a chipper tone as if it were not the end of the world. Ryan looked up at them.

“What does a person who identifies as no gender use as a prefix?” Ryan shook his head and furrowed his brow in anger.

“I have no idea,” he replied sharply before continuing his course to the back room, the only unpopulated area of the office he could think of. Ryan swung open the door and let it slam behind him. He rubbed his perspiring palms up and down his jeans. Blood pounded in his ears. His vision disfigured as though he was looking through a fish-eye lens. 

Then, through the same fish-eye lens, Ryan saw Shane sitting by himself at the head of a conference table, looking quizzically at the phone in his hand. He looked up to see Ryan.

“Ryan?” Shane said softly, brow still creased in bewilderment. Ryan’s heart sunk.

“I think-" Ryan sputtered.

"I think need to go home,” he spoke, bile rising in his throat. So he did. He turned and walked back through the discouraging office and to his car, avoiding eye contact with everyone in sight along the way.

He sat behind the wheel in silence for a moment before letting out a sob. 

It was a loud, deep sob that would have frightened his girlfriend if he had done it in front of her. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair as his tears burst forth like water from a dam and his chin muscles trembled like he was a small child. Nobody would see him the same way ever again. His life was ruined.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan lay limp in his bed, staring blankly at the patterns that engraved the ceiling. His eyes were swollen and stubble had accumulated on his jaw from staying in the same position for three days. He knew that to the outside world he seemed as though he was being incredibly dramatic, but to Ryan there was no drama involved. He felt like this was the end of his life. 

He didn’t want things to go back to how they had been in high school. When people had treated him like some weird alien that had landed on earth and didn’t speak the language. 

His phone had vibrated endlessly, messages coming in from every direction, but Ryan shut it off, not bothering to care who they were from. In truth, he did care, and he hoped they were not from Shane. He didn’t want to talk to Shane because Shane made him feel happy and happiness was the last emotion Ryan felt like feeling. 

He wished Shane had not seen the email. Ryan placed his palms over his eyes and thought about how his relationship with his best friend would change. 

Suddenly, Ryan shot up in his bed, eyes wide.

" I have a shoot tomorrow!" he said out loud . Him and Shane were meant to go to a local hotel and investigate a ghost bride that roamed the hallways at night. Ryan was not prepared.  Even though he had been lying unproductively in his bed, cooped up in the restraints of his home for the past three days with no desire to leave, he picked himself up because the one thing he would not ever skip out on was the show. 

That is what Ryan told himself, that he would never fail the show, but the truth was that the one thing Ryan would not ever skip out on was Shane.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan studied the underwhelming wall in the surgeon’s office as a short man sat in front of him and examined his chest. The room was cool and Ryan felt exposed as the man took measurements and drew lines with a thick marker on his skin. Ryan took a deep breath and bit his lip as he looked up to the ceiling. 

He wanted this consultation to be over, but he knew that it was a necessary step for him to be able to get surgery.

“Concentric circle, you’re a perfect candidate!” The doctor exclaimed as he pulled the hospital gown back over Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan let out a deep sigh of relief knowing that no visible scars would be left from the surgery. 

He smiled and thanked the doctor before walking out of the office into the bright, blue day and despite not having had surgery yet, he walked out as a nearly new man. He was still missing one thing. His dad.

  
  



	5. Warm Bodies

            Ryan heaved his body out of bed as if he were a dead man coming back to life and wandered into his bathroom. A low-cut white shirt billowed over his skin as he looked into the mirror.

_This is going to be a long day,_ Ryan thought to himself as he rubbed his hands down his cheeks. A sense of heaviness fell on Ryan as he drove to work almost as if a demon were sitting on his shoulder, whispering into his ear, just as he wished Shane would.

“Ry Guy!” Shane exclaimed as he excelled towards Ryan’s parked car. His face then fell into confusion as he followed with “Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?”

Ryan avoided Shane’s inquiring gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wished Shane hadn’t texted him. He wished Shane had just left him alone so he could let go of the false hope that their friendship would remain, even more so so that he could let go of _Shane._

“Where did you even go? I knocked on your door and you weren’t home,” Shane said, taking a step towards Ryan, now towering over him like a menacing skyscraper. Ryan didn’t recall hearing a knock at his door, too caught up in his own thoughts, he guessed.

Ryan hung his head, tracing his eyes across the crevices of the pavement that had been painted with the new morning light.

“You saw the email, right?” Ryan mumbled, though he already knew the answer. He found Shane’s eyes and peered into them, unknowing of what his friend’s reaction would be.

“Yeah,” Shane said weakly. A lingering silence danced through the crisp morning air as the men continued to look at each other, both unaware of what to say next.

“And?” Ryan said in an attempt to coax the feelings out of Shane.

“Well I know it’s fake, dude. I’m not stupid. Christie is the head of the photo editing department after all,” Shane said with a tone that was interwoven with a mix of a hollow and chipper expression. Ryan’s heart stopped and swelled simultaneously. His shoulders fell heavy with a thick burden, but he also felt as though he could get up and fly.

“It is fake...right?” Shane searched for confirmation.

Despite his gut-feeling and his great hatred of lying, especially to his best friend and the man he was falling in love with, Ryan replied almost instantly.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a fake picture.”

“Then you’ve gotta tell that to everybody. No need to sulk about it for three days.” Shane clapped a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, sending a warm wave of electricity through his body.

“You’re such a baby sometimes, Ryan,” Shane said with a grin.

And although Ryan usually had a deep, secret appreciation for Shane’s witty insults towards him, his heart fell to his shoes. He was starting to think it would be easier if Shane knew the truth, knew who Ryan really was. That he was a liar and a freak. That way he could leave before Ryan fell deeper in love with him.

“Look, I’ll do it now,” Shane said as he grabbed Ryan’s wrist and dragged him into the building, despite Ryan’s desperate protests. He did not want to draw more attention to this whole mess.

“Shane, what are you doing?” Ryan asked with a pleading tone, trying helplessly to pull Shane back outside.

“Calm down,” Shane whispered, mouth a little too close to Ryan’s ear. Ryan shivered as Shane placed a warm hand onto his chest. Ryan looked down and observed how Shane’s large hands expanded over the entirety of his chest. Shane then proceeded to stand high on a nearby table, clapping twice to get the office’s attention.

“Everybody!” He bellowed, Ryan placed his hands over his eyes as if his nimble fingers would shield him from the embarrassment he was about to face.

“Ryan did NOT used to be a girl. The photograph was fake so everybody can calm their shit.” Shane used Ryan’s shoulder to help him down from the table.

“See?” He grinned.

“Not a big deal.” Ryan smiled nervously in response. His whole body felt itchy, as though there were ants crawling all over his skin.

“Want to come over?” Shane offered as the rest of the office returned to their second-rate work, often whispering amongst one another and looking up at Ryan.

“Yeah, anything that will get me out of here,” Ryan replied, scanning the room nervously.

 

* * *

 

 

            The hot butter coated Ryan’s fingertips as he focused on not reaching into the popcorn bowl at the same time Shane did, in case of an accidental hand brush. The striking blue light from the television illuminated the room, but Ryan discounted whatever dumb 80s cowboy movie was playing. Instead he looked at Shane, trying desperately to find a single flaw on the man. But Ryan knew it was impossible. Of course Shane had plenty of flaws, but Ryan didn’t see them, and if he did, he saw them as things that made Shane more attractive. Ryan pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes and grunted slightly, trying to shake the thought. Shane quirked a smile and gave Ryan a funny look.

Then as if its intention were to break a near-intimate moment between them, an ear-piercing ring infested Ryan’s ears as Shane’s phone screen contributed to the technological light that lit the room.

Ryan glanced at the screen and his heart stopped. It was another email from Christie. Shane picked up his phone aimlessly, eyes still glued to the pixeled cowboys that waltzed across the television.

Then, the muffled sound of voices pushed out of Shane’s phone as he tapped a play button.

“Racheal, come on!” It was Ryan’s mother’s voice, flickering with their camcorder’s faulty microphone.

“I’m coming, mom!” An obnoxiously high teenage voice came next.

Ryan remembered that day. His mom calling him over to look at the strange bird that was perched on his neighbour's shoulder. There had been an old man on Ryan's street called Ernie and he gave all the kids candy that tasted like soap. Ryan had always liked Ernie, he had taught the neighbourhood children how to write short stories. But they loved him for a different reason. That reason being that he had a tame crow that would sit on his arm and squawk on command. Or maybe it wasn't a crow, Ryan didn't know anymore. He just stood there, mouth full of sweet lavender as he admired the pitch black feathers.

Ryan ached for the nectarous taste on his tongue, but instead a sudden tsunami of panic and guilt and anger and sadness washed over Ryan and swept him away like it would a minnow in the tide. The western accents of the cowboys in the movie became distant and Ryan’s vision, blurry. He watched Shane’s face flick through a number of different emotions as he watched the video, the phone screen reflecting in the rims of his plastic glasses.

Ryan could have gotten up. He could have picked himself up off of Shane’s couch and ran into the street. He could have gone home, he could have left the country, but didn't. He stayed, petrified. Shane watched the entire video without meeting Ryan’s eyes who were so intently glued on his.

Then, it ended. Shane’s gaze lingered on the screen for a moment before he shut off his phone, raising his eyes to look at Ryan. Ryan observed the light that flickered over Shane’s cheek, defining his jawbone.

“This is a video, Ryan,” he said, sounding almost defeated. Ryan felt shameful. Ashamed that he was who he was, but more so that he had let his friend down.

“Look-” Ryan began in a desperate attempt to hold onto any glint of hope there was left.

“I-I, she’s really good at editing, it’s not rea-” he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s not true Sha-”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Shane asked, a hint of distrust and betrayal interweaving his tone. Ryan could tell that it was over. There was no more denying it. The truth was out, and to the one person he didn’t want it to be out to. His blood boiled at Shane’s remark as he wondered how one could possibly think that laying your vulnerabilities out on a table in front of a man you’re falling helplessly in love with was as easy as Shane made it out to be.

“It’s not that easy, dude!” Ryan retaliated, his voice raising in both volume and anger. He wasn’t angry at Shane, though that was probably what Shane thought, he was angry at the situation. He was angry at himself. He swallowed, the spit travelling painfully down his parched throat.

“It’s a part of me that I don’t want to pay attention to. I just didn’t want anyone to know,” Ryan began, with a brief moment of composure in his voice before raising it again.

“And now that is fucking ruined!” He dug his fingernails into the armrest of Shane’s couch, his knuckles going pale.

“Watch your language,” Shane said, his voice raising to the same level as Ryan’s.

“What a childish thing of her to do,” Shane said, visibly pondering over Christie’s email.

There was a drawn-out silence, something that seemed to happen rather frequently between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, but nonetheless Ryan was filled to the brim with anxiety. Shane broke the tension.

“Well I don’t know how to act now,” he said.

“Just act normal!” Ryan bursted out as he threw his hands up in the air, promptly getting up from the couch and then placing his hands on his chest in an attempt to calm his breathing. He paced around the coffee table that stood inconveniently in the center of the room. Shane followed, taking a step towards Ryan.

“I just wished you had told me!” He shouted, flecks of spit falling from his mouth, illuminated by the ongoing film that backdropped the scene.

“I thought I was your best friend!” Shane said. Ryan paused and looked at Shane as the rest of the world seemed to fall away. A dreaded feeling of fury permeated his chest at the mere suggestion Shane had made.

“You are!” Ryan nearly screamed wanting Shane to listen to him and believe him, the hoarseness of his voice echoing off the walls like a broken phonograph. The cowboys chattered lazily behind them before Ryan picked up the remote and shut off the television, draining the light and chaos from the room and leaving them both in complete darkness and in complete silence.

“You are,” he repeated, in a near whisper this time.

“Look man, I don’t know how to deal with this,” Shane waved his hand non-directly between them, his voice becoming loud again.

“Neither do I!” Ryan followed, sounding much louder now that the film was off. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, finding Shane standing across from him, separated by the coffee table. Even in near-darkness and in the midst of the whole situation, Ryan could not mistake how handsome Shane was. But instead of the usual skipping of his heart, he was overcome with a simple feeling of sadness. Sadness that this would all be over in a matter of minutes and he would be forced to sever his yearning and affection and needless to say, lust for Shane. Shane would never want to talk to him again, would never want to be his friend, let alone fall head over heels for him the same way that Ryan was. Because Ryan was just a freak, a mutation whose parts didn’t match up and whose gears didn’t turn the right way. He looked up at Shane who seemed to be forming words in his mouth, his lips opening as if he were about to say something, then closing again.

“But I love you, alright?” Shane finally shouted suddenly after the moment of stillness which returned immediately after he said it. Although, Ryan _could_ hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears, he hoped Shane couldn't hear it, and he wasn’t sure if it was drumming so harshly because of the fact he had just spilled his biggest secret or if it was because the man standing before him, who he was so carelessly in love with had just told him that he loved him.

“Alright!” Ryan bellowed back.

“Why are we still yelling?” Shane hollered, which caused a minuscule smirk to tug at the corners of Ryan’s lips. Then the two of them sat down side by side on the couch and started laughing, almost maniacally. Ryan laughed out of relief that Shane still loved him as his best friend. He laughed out of trepidation that Shane would begin to see him differently. He laughed at the pure comic of the horrible situation he had been placed in. Ryan felt a heavy arm hang over his shoulder. Shane’s fingertips lightly brushed Ryan’s collarbone, sending butterflies soaring through his entire body, bursting out of the restriction of just his stomach.

The laughter eventually trickled into silence as a candle would slowly burn out into darkness. Ryan focused and synced his gentle breaths to the rhythm of Shane’s.

“Hey,” Shane began in a whisper, hot breath on Ryan’s ear, pressing the side of his body against his and teetering on the edge of being too intimate for a friendship.

“Since you told me all this stuff about you,” he paused.

“Even if it was involuntary.” Ryan felt Shane’s deep chuckle resonate warmly throughout his bones.

“I feel like I should tell you something too,” he continued. Ryan glanced over at Shane’s profile, studying the nooks and crannies of his features.

“I’m gay,” Shane said softly. Ryan let out a sigh. He didn’t know if it was because he was relieved that Shane was attracted to men or if he was sad that because Shane was attracted to men, he would never be attracted to Ryan. He didn’t know if this was a sign from Shane to back off, or a sign to push forward so Ryan just leaned his head against Shane’s shoulder, not burdened by the need to say any words. The two of them sat in peace for a few minutes. Although, Ryan couldn’t tell how much time had actually passed by, it could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty.

Then, in the essence of the moment, Ryan decided to reveal his deepest fear to the man whose body was pressed against his. He figured nothing against it, seeing his secret was already on the table in plain sight. He wanted to get it out of his system, to spit it out like gum onto a busy sidewalk.

“I feel,” he began hesitantly, breaking the soft wall of silence, causing it to dance away like specks of dust in the morning sunlight.

“I feel like nobody will ever love me.”

Shane didn’t respond right away, instead he pulled Ryan in closer if that were even possible.

“I feel like nobody will ever love _me,_ I’m strange and off putting, but you don’t see me complaining about it do ya?” Shane said with a grin.

“I’m basking in it, baby!”

And there it was, the one detail that Ryan had been so scared to lose if the world found out he was transgender. Normality. There it was right in front of him. Shane had made one of Ryan’s deepest insecurities seem normal.

He had a way of making Ryan feel normal while simultaneously making him feel as though he was the most important man in the world. Shane lifted his arm off of Ryan’s back, much to Ryan’s quiet dismay, and placed his hands in his lap.

“ _I_ love you, big guy,” Ryan said with reassurance and a slight smile as he bumped his shoulder playfully against Shane’s. But it was different when Ryan had said it. When Shane had told Ryan that he loved him it had been in the way that a best friend loves a best friend. When Ryan said it, he was pretty sure that he meant it. And that scared the living daylights out of him.


	6. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss.

            “I’m too complicated.”

Ryan’s mother shot him a look that told him to stop putting himself down immediately.

“You don’t think anyone will ever love you, huh?” she said in a voice that was unmistakably a mother’s voice. A voice soft and raspy like how one would expect the voice of a kitten to sound. A voice warm and soothing, radiant as a sunset, but also unafraid to say, “Do things right!” Ryan’s mother was his heaven, his superhero.

“Well _I_ love you,” she said, continuing to stack the dishes methodically onto the shelves. Ryan rolled his eyes.

“That’s different,” he said. His mother chuckled.

“I know,” she spoke in a hushed tone.

“But I also know that one day, you will find someone who loves you for your wit and your intelligence and your weird preference to skip instead of walk. Ryan, one day somebody will come along and love you just for _you."_ She paused.

"And when that person does come along, it will work, you will make it work."

With that, Ryan sighed and replied, “I guess.”

It was not until now that Ryan realized how much the words his mother had spoken to him that night in the kitchen had resonated in his heart. And also how much they might actually be true.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ryan and Shane stood side by side as the sun began to drop out of the sky.

Ryan had braved it at work. People had stared at him and had silently judged him throughout the day. But when Ryan became antsy, feeling the gazes of his coworkers burning holes in his skin, he would almost immediately feel a comforting, warm hand on his back or knee or even right on top of his own hand. Just from that slight touch and the communication it conveyed without words, the ship sinking in Ryan’s stomach would begin to resurface and the lost sailors would return to their laughter and drinking and Ryan was happy.

Even in the midst of the confused looks that had been shot at Ryan all day, he also got a couple of simple smiles as well.

He tried hopelessly to work on editing a video, but it was no use. He was too distracted. He looked over to Shane who smiled a carefree smile, brightening Ryan in a way the sun couldn’t and causing just the right amount of shyness and unexpected warmth to run through his bones. He was beginning to think that he might not be a freak after all.

Ryan felt Shane’s eyes study him as he looked out onto the vast town from the roof of his apartment, the mountains thundering in the background. Then Shane looked away, joining Ryan’s gaze into the distance.

“Hey Ry,” he spoke softly, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. Ryan turned to face him, but Shane did not do the same.

“You know how you were saying those things about how nobody will ever love you?” Shane spoke before coughing nervously, causing Ryan’s mouth to twinge slightly into a smile.

“Uh, you’re wrong because,” Shane began, finally turning to look Ryan in the eyes.

“Because I think I might be kinda in love with you.”

Ryan’s eyes widened and he felt as though a sweet, hot liquid had spread throughout his lungs.

“That was really fuckin’ out of the blue, dude,” Ryan said with a laugh. He didn’t know why he laughed. He was giddy and nervous all at once. Ryan felt Shane reach down and softly intertwine their fingers.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Shane breathed, before taking a step closer to Ryan, allowing him to the feel hot air from Shane’s mouth on his forehead. It was just the two of them, standing proudly, hand-in-hand on the top of a roof, overlooking the burdens and obstacles that that resided in the city down below.

Ryan traced Shane’s body with his eyes over and over again, his extended arms, his poor posture, strands of brown hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, but in him, Ryan saw beauty. His eyes were a rich lavender that stole his breath while looking through his soul. His hands were strong yet at the same time gentle. And his mouth… oh, how Ryan wanted to kiss that mouth.

And so he did, before Shane could kiss his first. It wasn’t one of those close-mouthed kisses you do when you’re in eighth grade and have never held hands with a girl before, but it also wasn’t a full on, open-mouthed, sexual kiss either. It was chaste and sweet. Slow and soft in a way that words could never be. Ryan tasted a hint of lavender and  salt on Shane’s lips. And he loved it. He loved the way his small body melted into Shane’s. The way their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. The way Shane relented as Ryan brought his hands up to play with his hair and held him tighter and tighter. He kissed Shane and the world fell away. Shane’s hand rested below Ryan’s ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths intermingled. Ryan ran his fingers down Shane’s spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and he could feel the beating of Shane's heart against his chest. He had thought that after spending so many hours with Shane, watching him talk and laugh and remark, that Ryan would know all there was to know about his lips, but in truth, he had not yet imagined how warm and impeccable they would feel against his own.

Following the moment, the busy sound of the street below returned. Shane looked at Ryan and Ryan looked at Shane and they laughed. They laughed like they always had when they were together. It came as first like a newly sprung leak, timid and sporadic and then falling into the normality that was the reverbating, stomach-aching laughs they had shared so many times before.

“We just kissed!” Ryan exclaimed with excitement in his eyes. Shane squeezed Ryan’s shoulder.

“I know!” He shared the enthusiasm.

“I literally just put my mouth on your mouth!” Ryan said.

“I’ve wanted to do it for so long,” he laughed, bracing himself with his hands on his knees.

“Let’s go back downstairs,” Shane said, his smile almost echoing from the mountain tops. Then Ryan’s face fell.

He knew what that meant. He knew that he had just shared his lips with the man across from him, and would now have to share the rest of himself. He wasn’t prepared to see the disappointment behind Shane’s eyes as he looked at Ryan’s body, to see his forceful, smiling attempt at reassuring Ryan but truthfully feeling disgusted at what stood before him.

“Dude,” Shane said.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Ryan let out a sigh of relief.

“You come to me when that’s what you're ready for,” Shane said.

“Okay,” Ryan replied before following Shane back down to the apartment.

“Look I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t know how this all works and I’m sure you don’t either,” Shane said honestly as he turned to face Ryan in the stairwell.

“But one thing I do know,” he began.

“Is that it will work. I will make it work.”

  



	7. Line Traced Eyes

            Ryan hadn’t spoken to his dad since he transitioned, which had been about 13 years. It wasn’t intentional. There was no big fight or falling out like there were in the movies, they had simply drifted apart like highschool friends after graduation.

Ryan remembered when he was young and felt as though his dad really cared about him. It was a mild spring day, the sort when Ryan and his neighbourhood friends were so happy to run outside without jackets protecting their skin. He often ran to the neighbour's house because they had a swing. With his almost five year old legs he pumped higher and higher. His hair flopped backwards as he felt the warm sunlight on his face and then forwards as he faced the ground on the backwards swing. He couldn’t recall now how he fell, just the dull thump of hitting the dirt. He lay there unable to breathe, all the wind knocked right out of both lungs. He heaved but no air passed in. By the time he got home all he could do was slide down front door and bang against it once. His dad opened it. Ryan lay on the doormat, still trying to catch his breath. His dad looked at him, panicked, like he really cared for a moment and seconds later Ryan was lying in his parents' bed. Something about being jiggled as his father ran through the house got the air flowing into Ryan’s lungs. He lay there, just breathing. His parents were so shocked that they brought out a little dress they'd been saving for his birthday - blue velvet with a white lace collar and cuffs. Ryan had forgotten the fall in a moment as he gazed at the soft fabric of the dress, then down at his tattered blue t-shirt and cargo shorts. He kept that dress long after he’d outgrown it. He didn’t do it as a way to remember his childhood as a girl, but rather to remember his father’s attempts at being a father instead of always being “busy,” or “caught up with work,” and then eventually drifting away.

 

* * *

 

 

          Ryan and Shane lay above the covers in Ryan’s bed, fumbling with each other’s fingers and holding each other in ways they couldn't have before they kissed on the rooftop. Shane placed his thumb softly over Ryan’s lip, tracing the corners of his mouth.

Then, their moment was interrupted by a reverberant ring running through the corridors. Ryan rolled his eyes, giving Shane’s hand a weak squeeze before reluctantly getting off the bed.

“I’ll get it,” he said, but Shane followed him. Ryan unlocked his front door, the metal of the key heating up in his fingers as he did so. He swung it open swiftly, not bothering to check through the peephole.

“Hey,” Ryan said before he could see who it was, but he was just met with a pair of nimble arms around his back. It was a familiar touch, one that Ryan had not known he had been yearning for. One that had jiggled him through the hallways after he had fallen off the swing. He leaned into the hug that seemed to have an apologetic squeeze to it before pulling away and looking into the eyes of the culprit. The same thinning grey hair hung over his forehead in a way that reminded Ryan of Shane’s and the same faint lines ran along the sides of his olive eyes.

“Dad?” Ryan breathed.

 

It was only a hug, nothing more. It didn’t make everything alright. It didn’t make anything alright. But it was still something, like the first sprout of a spruce tree sapling in a desolate clearing of a forest that had previously stood there, but had been burned away.

Ryan still had anger. He still had days where he would look in the mirror and see a young woman looking back. That would be something he would have to work out on his own. But for now, Ryan felt the gears shift mechanically in his brain, finally beginning to turn in the right direction, and tasted the sweet taste of lavender on his lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! That's a wrap! Thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought!


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